Less than 10 minutes ago I was propositioned by prostitute 2 feet from my door. She might be knocking at it as we speak. She offered me sex, no questions asked. I told her I had to sleep. She gave me her number, just in case. I went inside to brush my teeth. That was that...or was it? She's knocking at my door, the prostitute named Marie. She was barely clothed, picking up her bags when she saw me. Approached me, asked me what my name was. Said it was just sex for money. I laughed it off, being drunk at the time. All night, I wasn't wearing my glasses, I couldn't see anything coming. We'll come back to this.

What an effort I make to blog right now. After missing such enormous occasions as the pope's death, Hitler's birthday, the NBA playoffs and more for writing, I find myself with a lot of recapping to do. Where to start? This past month has seen (apart from a papal passing, a papal appointment, ((I'm a little bit consumed with papal lore at present)), a Joanna Newsom concert, several frank discussions with the cousin, a few vicious e-mails, a few formal discussions with my legal team of two, a passover celebration, some intense cat sitting and lot of matzah.) And a whole lot of work, as per usual, I come to you tonight full of vodka and stories to tell. First of all I'm not at all pleased with the cat I'm looking after. He's ruined a fern and my two best pairs of pants in a span of 8 hours. What is it with cats? Do they extend their claws when they're happy or what? This one jumps on my lap and starts purring then fully rips into my pants, into my skin, what have you. She has yet to draw blood, but the moment is nigh upon us. Anyway, I've begun my search for a new apartment (I want to live alone) officially. I got a raise. I'm going to be a partner in the company soon. I have a team of two lawyers that does their best just to take me seriously. I had my i-pod stolen by six hoodlums. Bad news. Not good for Judeo-Muslim relations at all. What else? I am receiving CV's and resumes for a position at the GG by PHd's and professional writers and filmmakers every five minutes. I need to change a litter box. I am the subject of hate mail from disgruntled women clients who don't like the sexist nature of certain GG dialogues. I received a cover letter today that said 'I submit my resume for you perusal' which I greatly appreciated (She neglected to attach her resume, in the first e-mail en plus) Because I peruse all day: CV's, grammar exercises, sexist dialogues, nasty comments and box scores from Giant's games all that stuff. My latest writings are concerned with monkey kidnappings and Amozonian perfumists. I think the cat has been eating cigarette butts. Does that explain her bloodlust? Wow. Sorry for the drunken postings but it's all I can manage at the moment. More to come I hope.

Peace out